CHARLIE DORE

Waiting in the petrie dishAnonymous, our greatest wishI wonder will you ever seeA hundred men in their white coatsFrom Lands End up to John O'GroatsDefy biology

When I think of all the years we spentThe ways, the means to just prevent youNow the final ironyThe secret love we made at nightNow distilled in broad daylightFor everyone to seeBut some things are never meant to beBut could you beOh could you beWho could you be?

You could be two yards tallYou could be beautifulYou could be plain, so plainYou could be anyoneYou could be our best chanceYou could refuse the danceYou could be all these thingsAll these thingsAll these thingsOr nothing at all

We've read the mapsWe know the ropesWe know to never get our hopes upWho would bet with odds so low?So I don't blink when choirs singOr linger over tiny thingsThat way we never goAnd some things are never meant to beBut could you beOh could you beWho could you be?

You could be a saint or sinnerChaos-maker, spit your dinnerYou could make us proudOr break our heartsYou could stride in like a giantCrash the carOr be compliant Complicated, clear as waterBillionaire or begging quartersYou could be a son or daughter

Waiting in the petrie dishAnonymous, our greatest wishI wonder will you ever seeThe hundred men in their white coatsFrom Lands End up to John O'GroatsDefy, defyBiology